Revenge of the Winter Warlock
by Sir Talen
Summary: Ever wonder how Kris Kringle from "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" turned in the grumpy Santa from "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer"?


"Good job, team! Good job, Rudolph!" Santa cried out heartily, as his sleigh glided into the workshop. Another Christmas was done, though it had been a near thing with that blasted snowstorm. If it hadn't been for that kid with the red nose his sleigh would never had made it.

"Thanks, Santa!" Rudolph called back, shucking off his harness. Almost a grown adult now, and the poor kid still had his squeaky kid voice, so darned eager and happy to have finally found his place on the sleigh team.

"Welcome home, Papa!" Mrs. Claus called out, as the elves closed the castle door. "It's been a long night. Why don't you go to sleep? I will have hot cocoa for you in the morning."

"I will, Mama," Santa lied. "Why don't you see that the team is bedded down?" With that he slipped out the door, just in time to avoid another godawful round of _We Are Santa's Elves,_ as they started cleaning and putting away the sleigh.

He slipped his red coat and hat off, placing them on the coat rack and retrieving his musty old tweed jacket and cap. Slipping them on, he snuck out of the door quietly, heading towards the cottage deep in the pine forest over the hill. He didn't bother to knock before he slipped inside. He knew the fellow who lived there would be waiting for him.

"Evening, Kringle," Winter greeted. The old warlock was still tall, still beak nosed, and still imposing when he chose to be. Santa took it as a good sign that he was sitting down with a cup of cocoa, instead of looming tall in the shadows. The Winter Warlock's icy heart might have melted, but Santa had long ago figured out that his most potent magics had never left him.

"Winter," Santa said, grabbing a chair and sitting down with an _oof._ God, his back was killing him. He really needed to reupholster the sleigh's seat. "That was a nasty trick you pulled tonight. Am I going to have to go back to calling you 'Mr. Warlock'?"

Winter frowned. "You might, if I have to keep dealing with you being such a grump."

Santa ran a hand over his balding head. "I'm sorry about the kid…"

" _I'm_ not the one you need to be apologizing to," Winter growled. Santa tried not to flinch. It was never a good sign when Winter's voice started to deepen. "What's the matter with you, Kris? The kid is born with a bright red nose, starts getting bullied by all of the other reindeer, and all you do is complain that his honker is too bright. Then he and that teeth obsessed geek of an elf run off and spend nearly a _year_ out in the wilderness, with Clarice running off after him, and you just ignore it and make like it's just an ordinary Christmas!"

"It's been a bad year…"

"Try 'bad decade!'"

"There have been some rough adjustments, I'll admit that," Santa hedged.

"The toy shop is being run by a bully, and so is the reindeer coaching program, you've had an abominable snow bumble running around out in the wilderness, King Moonchaser couldn't get your attention without dropping a toy anvil on your head…"

"Who makes a toy anvil?" he demanded.

"I don't know, but I'm sure that lion has one living _somewhere_ on his island. Now quit interrupting! Face it, you just haven't been the same since…"

Santa stood up angrily. "Don't go there, Winter!"

The white robed magician stood up as well. "That's _Mister_ Winter to you! You married that frumpy German hausfrau not a _year_ after losing Jessica, and you expected everything to just go back to _normal_?"

He gritted his teeth, not meeting Winter's eyes. "It wasn't that simple. I'm _Santa Claus_. Santa Claus has to have a _Mrs._ Claus. That's the way it goes. I'm not a _person_ any more, I'm a _personification._ Santa Claus, the immortal expression of Christmas Spirit. Jessica… wasn't."

Winter's expression softened. "Ain't like when you were kid, is it? Running around the rooftops of Sombertown, handing out yoyos to the Burgermeister and a toy choo-choo to the Winter Warlock."

"What I wouldn't give for my worst worry to be the Burgermeister's soldiers chasing after me," he sighed, sitting back down and accepting the cup of cocoa Winter offered him. "Everything is changing, Winter. Jessica is gone, Tante Kringle and most of her original family is gone." Santa rolled his eyes, "And _where_ did that singing snowman out in the front yard ever come from?"

"Oh, that." Winter cleared his throat in embarrassment. "He was just a little experiment of mine. Poor Frosty was getting so lonely that I figured he deserved a friend."

Santa snorted into his cup. "Don't we all?"

"Yep," Winter agreed. "Immortality stinks, Kris. Trying hanging out in the woods for five hundred years with only the trees and a few mangy wolves for company."

"No thanks!"

"You were the first person I'd met in a century that managed to not be terrified of me. It wasn't the choo-choo that melted my icy heart, it was _you._ "

"Thank you, Winter." He sighed. "I deserved having you dump that storm on me, didn't I?"

"Yep," Winter agreed. "Sometimes being a good friend means giving them a swift kick in their red-coated patootie."

"I didn't see Rudolph for what he was, just a kid trying to fit in."

"Keep going..." Winter encouraged.

"I'll give him and his family an apology, a _real_ apology, first thing in the morning." As Winter continued to stare, he added, "And tell the reindeer coach he and all of the other reindeer were out of line, _and_ get a new foreman for the workshop. That skinny kid with the glasses looks ready to move up, I think."

"That's a pretty good start," Winter agreed. "Don't forget, one foot in front of the other!"

For the first time in over a year, Santa let out a sincere, " _Ho, ho, ho!"_


End file.
